Sex and Fedoras
by Gleefully Wicked
Summary: In the year 1954, when organized crime still ruled New York City, one young cab driver will be drawn into the glitz and glamour of the Italian Mafia while slowly falling in love with the daughter of a wealthy hotel owner with criminal connections of her own. WxL 1950s Mafia AU. Rated M for numerous reasons.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Basically, I'm kind of obsessed with the 1950s(well, the cars and music; not so much the unequal rights), so this AU was bound to happen eventually. And yes, I am well aware that the mafia is terrible and it is not a good idea to want to join. Seriously, kids. Don't. This shall be my most deserving of an M rating fic ever, so please enjoy the lack of a cursing filter and blatant sex and murder(if you couldn't tell from the title that was originally meant to be a joke, this fic will have at least one scene of explicit smut. Charles help us all).**

**Anywho, I don't own the main characters of this fic, but there's a hell of a lot of OCs that are the property of myself and Eryn(Child of a Broken Dawn). If you would ever like to use any of them in a fic, please ask first. Now, ONTO ZEE SEX AND VIOLENCE!**

* * *

March 1, 1954

"So, are you going to actually look for work today?" A young woman asked the young man lying awake in his twin-sized bed, who immediately let out an exasperated sigh.

"I have been working." He said to his sister, who stood with her arms crossed and a stance that threatened foot-tapping.

"Writing silly love poems is hardly working." She argued and crossed to her younger brother's closet, picking out an outfit different from his usual buttoned shirt and leather jacket. "I got you a job interview with a cab company." The sister threw the outfit at her brother's face. "Get dressed." The brother rolled his eyes.

"Lauren, does your fiancé know that he's marrying another drill sergeant?" He asked with an innocent smile.

"Fuck you." Lauren swore as she left him to dress, slamming the door behind her. Lucas sighed, forcing himself up out of bed and giving a disgusted look at the white button-up and paisley sweater that he swore he'd burned the day after his mother had sent it to him.

"I hope you know that I'm never going to get a job looking like a serial killer." He called to his sister as he buttoned up his shirt.

"Are you implying that you will be forever unemployed?" She shot back.

"Ain't you the funny one?" he said through his teeth and pulled the sweater over his head.

* * *

"Excuse me, I'm Lucas Beineke. I'm here to see Mr. Mott?" The young man said with uncertainty to the receptionist of a small depot office in the Meat Packing District. The bespectacled, tired-looking woman gave Lucas a weary smile.

"In there." She told him, and pointed to a door just a few feet in front of the young man. He nodded in thanks and continued onwards, walking in on a portly middle-aged man stammering into his telephone.

"I-I told you I would have your money by next week." Lucas briefly wondered if he should retreat back to reception, as it appeared that Mr. Mott was indisposed at the given time. "Thank you so much for your _generosity_." The man said into the phone before slamming it back into the receiver with unnecessary force. He looked up at Lucas.

"So, you're Lauren's little brother?" He asked, and the much younger man nodded. "Yeah...she's a sweet gal." The company owner falsely complimented.

"No. No, she's not." Lucas corrected him, and a faint smile crossed Mott's grim face.

"No, she's not." He agreed. "But your sister and her fiancé are loyal clients, and she claims that you can drive."

"Yes, Sir; I can." Lucas replied to Mott, who reached into his desk drawer for a pack of cigarettes and a match.

"You ever driven a cab before?" Mott asked as soon as he'd taken his first drag. Lucas shook his head. "Eh, you look like you got an okay head on your shoulders- and it ain't exactly science. Follow me." Lucas followed his apparent new boss out the back door of the office to a small parking lot with two yellow taxis waiting. Mott led the young man to the closest one. "You get Number 858." With a closer inspection, Lucas could see the numerous scratches in the paint, and at least one bullet hole in the passenger side door.

"Nice. '44?" Lucas asked politely.

"'47." Mott corrected his guess. "She's seen better days, but she runs like new." He opened the driver side and pointed to the radio. "Dispatch'll call you on that whenever we need you somewhere. Otherwise, just drive around where people are." Lucas nodded his head in understanding.

"And I keep the meter running at all times?" The trainee asked.

"You got it." Mott reached into his pocket for the keys. "You ain't exactly licensed, so don't get pulled over. Any damage is on you, and I ain't paying for no parking tickets." Lucas nodded. "You get ten bucks a day, plus whatever you make in tips. The rest goes back to the company." Mott placed the keys in his hand. "Good luck, kid."

Lucas stared at the keys for a moment while Mott returned to his office. He would have to make a lot of tips if he was going to ever make any kind of respectable amount, but he had to admit that having a job felt pretty good. With hesitation, he used the cab's side mirror to fix his hair before getting in the cab. Hearing the engine roar to life, he could tell that Mott had at least been honest about the way it ran. He headed out to the street where someone would hopefully try to hail him, switching on the radio to the new music station.

"Well you can have her, I don't want her. She didn't love me anyway. She only wanted someone to play with. But all I wanted was love to stay-" Lucas sang along until he finally was hailed by a redheaded woman outside of a bank.

"Hospital on 5th." She directed him. Lucas nodded and flipped on the meter. Pulling back onto the road, he had an internal debate regarding chatting up the beautiful woman in his car- he figured any other guy in his position would.

"So how's life, Beautiful?" He asked in his best attempt to be suave and cavalier like some Humphrey Bogart. Based on his view from the rearview mirror, it had not worked out well. She smiled; clearly amused.

"Not too bad. My husband got shot, but he's still alive, so I guess it could be worse." The woman said this all with a straight face, so Lucas could do nothing but believe her and widen his eyes. Deciding to not further invade her privacy, he drove the rest of the way in silence, only speaking again when he told her how much he was owed. In fact, he kept this up for the rest of the day.

Returning home to his apartment somehow exhausted stir crazy at the same time, he bounded straight for the kitchen to get a bottle of soda pop.

"How was work?" His sister asked from the kitchen table as she held a cigarette in one hand and turned the page of the daily paper with the other. Lucas popped the top off the bottle with the kitchen counter, earning an angry glare until he picked up the cap.

"It was alright. A little boring, but that's to be expected." He took a swig.

"Daddy called today. Asked if you've changed your mind about coming home, yet." Lucas shook his head and Lauren rolled her eyes.

"You can't just live with me forever, you know." Lauren set down her paper. "For God sakes, all the people I went to school with we're married with a kid by the time they were twenty!" Lucas raised an eyebrow.

"Except for you, huh?" He asked. "Kind of a double standard, don't you think?"

"I do not have a double standard, I have a career and a fiancé." She removed her horn rimmed reading glasses and set them on the table. "If I get married, I lose my job and a man replaces me. It's that simple." Lucas sighed, feeling sympathy for his older sister, but knowing that their society wasn't changing any time soon.

"Hey, do you wanna go out tonight?" He asked, seeing that he'd clearly killed any sort of a good mood that Lauren was capable of being in.

"Can't. I have a telephone call with Hank in a half-hour." She shut him down.

"How romantic." Lucas sarcastically swooned.

"Yes. Yes, it is fucking romantic." She said without another word and put her glasses back on. Lucas rolled his eyes and took his soda into their tiny living room to listen to the news on the radio, since 7:00 meant I Love Lucy on the television.

_"-and what a lovely cover by the Crew-Cuts!" _The disk jockey commented, and Lucas groaned at missing his current favorite song. _"In breaking news, recent organized crime activity has caused the chief of police to release a statement."_ The broadcaster quickly changed topics, leading into the gruff voice of the NYPD chief.

"_We are currently doing everything in our power to ensure the safety of civilians, and we encourage everyone to get car insurance." _Was all the man said, causing Lucas to break into a fit of laughter.

"Instead of telling the mob to not steal cars, they just tell people to be insured if it happens. Greedy bastards." He grumbled to himself and shut off the radio. Crossing to the other side of the room to pick a book from the shelf, having already decided mentally on Scarface. Having already read it twice, he made himself comfortable on the couch and began flipping to his favorite parts, all marked with a dog-eared page.

Reading until his eyes began to droop, Lucas eventually forced himself into his room where he stripped down to his underwear and crawled into his tiny bed, letting sleep claim him instantly. Thus beginning a routine that would continue for nearly two months, which saw Lucas grow even more weary with his everyday life with each passing day.

* * *

April 28, 1954

"So, I was thinking that maybe we could go see that Marilyn Monroe movie at the theatre?" A young woman asked from bed as a man about her age buttoned up his shirt.

"Why would you want to watch that?" He asked, clearly amused,

"I admire her." The girl admitted and the man scoffed.

"She's just your typical dumb broad, Wednesday." He stated what he thought to be the obvious.

"No, she's really not, Joel." Wednesday argued. "Besides, you like Joe DiMaggio, right?"

"Yeah, but what's that got to do with it?" Joel pressed, wanting her to humor him with her logic.

"He's married to Marilyn, isn't he?" Wednesday referred to the highly publicized celebrity marriage. Joel rolled his eyes and retrieved his pants from the floor.

"Baby, I doubt he married her because she can carry a conversation." Wednesday took a deep breath, not wanting to overtly call Joel a blithering idiot, but not denying that he was being one.

"I'm just saying that you don't know her as a person, so you probably shouldn't make snap judgments about her character." This caused Joel to actually throw his head back as he laughed.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay I'll take you to the stupid movie." He finally agreed, though somehow Wednesday had lost interest in seeing it. Or rather, in seeing it with him. "I'll see you tomorrow night. Lock the door when you leave." Joel bid Wednesday ado with a zip of his fly, and he was out the door. She sighed, slipping out of his bed to shower and get out of his apartment as quickly as possible.

Letting the overly hot water wash away any remnants of her and Joel's latest encounter, she thought briefly if this was really how she was supposed to feel. She figured that she'd loved Joel once and that the old him would eventually come back to her, so she produced the answer of yes. Every couple has rough times, and they would get through theirs. Knowing she was clean, Wednesday stepped out of the shower, wrapped herself in the cleanest towel, and retrieved the dress she'd hung up in the bathroom to steam. Today had been the first day that Joel had ever commented on it, and it had only been to say that she should buy some up-to-date clothes once in a while. No, love didn't just go away. It couldn't.

Though her chin-length black hair was still quite wet, she went into Joel's kitchen to use his phone, hoping that today wasn't one of her butler's shopping days.

"_Hello_?" The deep voice of her butler greeted her from the other end of the line.

"Hello, Lurch? It's me, Wednesday." She greeted him.

"_Do you need a ride_?"The butler asked, and she sighed at him always being such a mind reader. It made getting away with things very difficult.

"Yes, I was wondering if you could pick me up at that one gun store in Brooklyn? You know, the one on Gold that has crossbow bolts?" Wednesday had decided long ago that she'd rather not be upfront about her goings-on with Joel, even if Lurch already knew somehow.

"_The one near the waterfront, about two blocks from his apartment_?" He asked, confirming this.

"Yes, the one right by Joel's place." She sighed, wondering how he always saw right through her. "See you there, Lurch." Lurch grumbled something to himself as she put the phone back on the receiver. Going back into Joel's bedroom, Wednesday changed back into her dress and went to retrieve one thing off the bedside table before making her leave. She commended herself on getting out of there in record time.

Locking the door on her way out, she met eyes with Joel's disapproving landlord, who very often complained about the noise. For the first time, it seemed the middle-aged, balding man had nothing to say. Not even a snide remark on their unmarried status. Feeling overly confident, Wednesday smiled at the man.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Reilly." She greeted him as she passed to the stairwell, laughing as soon as she heard him mumble something about kids these days- and hussies. Though only a block or two away, Wednesday hurried to the gun store, wanting to buy some bolts to avoid Lurch questioning her.

But just as she was about to dash across the street to the store, a yellow cab came flying around the corner, nearly taking her out and causing her to jump backwards about three feet.

"Maniac!" She yelled, noted that the number was 858, and continued to the store.

**The rule here is that we can understand Lurch if he isn't around people that can't understand him. This was previously used by Eryn in her fanfic of a fanfic. **

**Do I have to beg? Because I'll beg. PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF CHARLES GIVE ME A REVIEW! Happy?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: That's right, a chapter within two weeks of the last one. This is happening.**

* * *

**Earlier, April 28, 1954**

Lucas Beineke sat in his cab outside a bodega in Brooklyn, munching on a Hershey's chocolate bar and waiting for a fare to come along. The day had been rather slow, which he suspected was due to the rather nice weather causing more people to walk to their destination. If he didn't rely on their commission to keep his sister off his back, he would have been more inclined to enjoy the sunshine as well. However, as it was, all it did was kill his business and melt his chocolate.

He was just licking the tips of his fingers and preparing to try driving around again when three well-dressed men approached his cab- Two of which were supporting one who was bleeding heavily from his abdomen. The taller of the unwounded jumped into the passenger seat of Lucas' cab.

"173 Mulberry, and fuckin' step on it!" The man ordered, and Lucas immediate flipped on the meter and made sure the other two were in before peeling out. The injured man groaned in pain.

"Does he need to go to a hospital?" Lucas asked after noticing from his rearview mirror that the man had a switchblade knife still protruding from his stomach.

"No." The man in the passenger seat said darkly, and Lucas heard the cock of a gun. "Now stop asking questions and drive, asshole." Lucas nodded profusely and pressed his foot down harder on the gas, now weaving in-between cars and flying through red lights. He'd finally made a deduction based on the men in expensive suits with guns and a stab wound; these guys were clearly in the mob.

"That's more like it." Passenger man said, and put his gun away.

"The kid ain't such a bad driver." The man in the back noted between doing what Lucas supposed you could call comforting. "It's gonna be alright. The bastard's dead and you're gonna be alright." Lucas heard him say to the bleeding man.

"Aw, fuck!" The leader in the passenger seat yelled the moment he saw flashing red and blue lights behind them as they were crossing the Manhattan Bridge. "Lose 'em!" He yelled at Lucas, who proceeded to completely floor it. A few ordinary sedans and trucks swerved every which way to get out of his way, which gave him a bit of an advantage on speed, but the cab was old, and it would never outrun the brand new cop car. As soon as he was off the bridge, Lucas took a sharp turn onto a side street, and then another into an alley- possibly running over a cat in the process.

"We're almost there." The soother said to the response of a weaker groan from his injured friend. Once Lucas was sure he'd lost the cops, he made a beeline for the address. Slamming on the brakes on the street outside, Lucas breathed a sigh of relief at not dying, and the men in the back wasted no time in getting out of the car.

"Thanks, Buddy." The leader said to Lucas as soon as his men made it inside an apartment building. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a $100 bill for Lucas. "Frankie was right. You ain't a bad driver, Kid." Lucas didn't quite know how to react.

"Um, thanks?" He responded, pocketing the bill and glancing at the $5 on the meter.

"We could use guys like you. Guys that don't crack under pressure, you know?" The man asked and Lucas nodded. "What's your name, kid?"

"Lucas Beineke, Sir." The man smiled, which Lucas didn't expect from the man who'd just been holding a gun to his head.

"Don't call me Sir. The name's Alec." He introduced himself and offered his right hand. Lucas shook it firmly.

"Pleasure to meet you, Alec." He said politely.

"Likewise." Alec reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Lucas tentatively took one when it was offered, and tried his very best to not cough up a lung while smoking it. "Do you like driving a cab, Lucas?" Alec asked, taking a long drag before slowing exhaling the smoke into the hot-boxed car.

"Not exactly, but it pays some of the bills." Lucas flicked away the ash harder than necessary in the hopes that the cigarette would burn down faster.

"A guy like you shouldn't be working some crap job like this." Alec commented and Lucas shrugged.

"Better than working in an office with my dad. Figure driving a cab and keeping my sister off my back is worth it in the end." He explained.

"Well, in case you're looking for a little more, come by Montebello's on Broome tomorrow afternoon." Alec opened the door of the car. "I'm sure we'll make it worth your while." With that, he stepped out and slammed the door shut; leaving Lucas with a decision.

* * *

**The Next Day**

"I'm sorry, Paloma, but they gave me a very generous offer." Gomez Addams apologized to his appalled eldest child

"I can't believe you would even consider dealing with those lowlifes!" Wednesday exclaimed as she through herself into one of her father's armchairs.

"These men are some of the best company you can keep in this city! I feel so very at ease knowing that they are protecting the hotel." The middle-aged Spaniard argued. His daughter furrowed her brow.

"They also tend to attract danger wherever they go, like moths to the flame." She stated. "I hardly think their 'protection' is worth inadvertently getting involved in the mess that comes with organized crime."

"Wednesday, you must trust that I know what I am doing." The girl sighed at her father's words.

"I do trust you; it's them I'm having trouble trusting." Wednesday stated. "I mean, they threatened you into taking the deal, right?" She asked.

"Oh, yes! And Gomez got up from his desk to stand over his daughter and place a hand on her shoulder. "And with such eloquence!" Wednesday couldn't help but smile at her father's attitude towards matters such as this.

"Just please be careful when dealing with them, Father." She pleaded, and he nodded.

"You worry too much, Pidgin." Gomez placed a kiss on his daughter's forehead. "Now, let us go to Ashford's. You know you want to." Wednesday laughed at her father's facial expression and shook her head.

"As good as chocolate-covered crickets sound right now, I unfortunately promised Joel I would meet him at the hotel." She declined, and her father's face shifted to one of suspicion.

"What are you going to do at the hotel?" He asked.

"We're meeting for a drink and then he's taking me to a movie." Wednesday answered truthfully. Her father smiled.

"Well, I hope you crazy kids have fun." Gomez gave his dismissal and Wednesday made her way out of his office and upstairs to her room. Ordinarily, she would meet Joel in her usual attire, but she felt that their first real date together in weeks shouldn't be ruined by another one of his comments about her not keeping up to date with the latest fashion (because of course, she had to be just like all of his friends' wives). Deciding on one black dress with thick straps and two buttons on the front, Wednesday figured Joel would appreciate her dressing modernly for his benefit. Topping it off with a diamond necklace that she knew he'd stolen for her, she was sure he would be satisfied with her appearance for once.

"I'm going out with Joel; don't wait up." Wednesday called to her mother as she opened the front door.

"Of course not, Darling." Morticia replied with a knowing smile that made Wednesday very uncomfortable. "And have Lurch drive you." At his cue, the tall, tired butler appeared in his driving cap.

"Let's go." He groaned and led the way to the family car, opening the back door for Wednesday.

"Thank you, Lurch." She said politely, climbing in and moving to the window with the most setting sunlight. She reached into her purse for her makeup and miniature mirror for a quick add-on.

"_Are you serious_?" Lurch grumbled at the shade of burgundy lipstick she chose.

"I am an adult!" She argued.

"_I didn't raise you that way, and I don't like that boy._" Lurch began to slightly raise his voice.

"You aren't my mother!" She exclaimed and put it on, causing Lurch to grumble in defeat.

"_I could take you to the movie, you know._" Lurch offered and Wednesday sighed, returning the items to her purse.

"I know you could, but I just need to spend some time with Joel, alright?"

"_You're too young to be dating_." Lurch resigned himself to.

"Whatever you say." Wednesday defiantly muttered at her surrogate second father's concerns.

* * *

"This is stupid, this is stupid, this is so stupid!" Lucas scolded himself as he sat parked outside of Montebello's, wearing the best three piece suit he could afford with the massive tip. He had half a mind to just forget the whole thing and continue his usual shift, but the nagging greed for more in life tugged at him. When else would he have such an opportunity to become like one of the characters in books or movies? He'd made up his mind by the time Mr. Mott's voice crackled over the radio.

"Luke, what the hell is the matter with you? Peggy just told you to drive to 23rd to pick up a client!" Lucas' boss demanded.

"...No." Lucas responded and waited for the impending termination.

"Go to the goddamn address or you're fired, Beineke!" Mott's red face could practically be heard over the radio.

"Good!" Lucas yelled and got out of the cab, walking into the restaurant with a newfound sense of confidence.

"Hey, it's the cabby from yesterday!" The well man that had been in the backseat greeted Lucas from the restaurant bar. The slightly tubby man got out of his seat to shake Lucas' hand.

"Frank Barbaro." He introduced himself. "You saved my fuckin' friend's life yesterday!" Lucas smiled.

"I'm sure the doctor that took care of him did more than I did." He admitted modestly.

"Nah. He never would have made it that far if anyone else had been driving." Frank clapped a hand down on Lucas' shoulder. "Come on. Alec wanted me to wait here for you and drive you to the Caballero."

"The what?" Lucas asked Frank, who was getting his raincoat off of a hook.

"The Caballero. Some new hotel in midtown." Lucas hesitated in following the man to his car, suddenly remembering all of the stories of men who were taken on boat rides and such. Frank must have noticed this, and waved Lucas over.

"You'll only ever have to worry if you manage to piss someone off, kid." He got into the driver's side of a black sedan with dark-tinted windows, and Lucas hesitantly got in on the passenger side.

"Nice car." He complimented.

"Thanks." Frank smiled. "I stole it from a nice old man near the Brooklyn Bridge." He left Lucas in the dead silence just long enough for the younger man's eyes to widen. "I'm fuckin' joking!" Frank laughed and put the car into gear, pulling out of the restaurant parking lot. "Jesus, grow a sense a humor!" Lucas awkwardly laughed in order to hide the still-present fear.

"So, why haven't I heard anything about a new hotel?" He asked.

"It isn't really a new hotel- actually, I think it's pretty old." Frank admitted. "The Caballero's a real nice place owned by some Spanish bastard named Gomez Addams. He just recently became a, uh, client." Frank turned sharply down the next street.

"A client?" Lucas asked, knowing that he probably shouldn't.

"We provide Mr. Addams' hotel with a little extra security, and he pays a small fee. Just business." Frank described extortion for Lucas, who nodded as though it didn't really bother him.

"Sounds legit." The young man interjected.

"It is legit. Anyone asks, and we work for a security business." Frank explained. "Kid, I'm only telling you this because you made a good impression on Alec, and that ain't exactly an easy thing to do."

"It's not?" Lucas asked, hoping he wouldn't overdo playing dumb.

"No, it isn't. You must have a fucking trustworthy face, because he wants you to help us with a job." Lucas' eyes finally widened at this juicy revelation. "I'll let him give you the details when we get there, but I just wanted you to get a fair warning. Do NOT fuck with us. You go to the cops, and you will die slowly before they could ever get to us. Go to the Feds, and we'll burn down your house with you and anyone else in it. Capiche?" Frank asked, and Lucas nodded furiously. "You're a smart kid. We should get along just fine."

Lucas noticed that they were pulling up in front of a hotel that looked as though it was built around thirty years prior, and while never having been updated since, it had a certain elegance about it. "Nice." He commented as he got out of the car and headed for the front door.

"Yeah. Mr. Rossetti loved this place the minute he saw it."

"I can see why." Lucas began to gush the minute he stepped foot in the lobby. "It's like going back in time." Frank rolled his eyes.

"It's a hotel, kid. Don't piss your pants." Lucas looked down at his feet.

"Sorry." He apologized. Frank laughed and shook his head.

"Come on. Alec's waiting in the bar." He said and directed Lucas through the hotel lobby past patrons who all appeared to be over the age of thirty. "It ain't the most hopping joint in town, but it's safe." Frank explained and led the young man through the doors of the hotel bar, where Alec sat at the counter with a drink on the rocks.

"Good to see you again, Alec." Lucas greeted him kindly as Frank took the seat on his left.

"Likewise, Lucas." "Please, sit." Lucas took the seat to Alec's right. "I'm assuming that Frank filled you in on the rules, so I'll make this quick; Frank and I are doing a job tonight and we need a getaway driver. You up for it?" Alec explained this as he reached into his jacket for his pack of cigarettes.

"Depends. What kind of job are we talking?" Lucas asked directly and denied Alec's offer of a smoke.

"We're picking up some guns and ammo from a shop right in the middle of Jew territory." Frank answered this time.

"If it's their territory, why don't we get the stuff from somewhere else?" The cautious side of Lucas begged him to ask.

"Because your typical gun store doesn't have illegal German military surplus." Frank reached into his pocket to produce a photograph of a stack of gun crates in a truck.

"Why do Jews have that many Nazi guns?" The youngest man asked.

"I have no fuckin' idea! They're angry bastards that would steal candy from babies!" Frank replied,

"Why do _we_ want Nazi guns?" Lucas pressed.

"Resale value." Alec answered for Frank.

"Those bitches can go for $200 a piece!" The big man reiterated. Lucas had definitely made up his mind at this point.

"You had me at resale value. When are we doing this?" He asked, and the older men smiled.

"Tomorrow night at ten. We're gonna meet at Montebello's and you're gonna drive us to Brownsville." Alec explained. Lucas let this information sink in.

"Whoa, Brownsville? You said a job, not a suicide mission." He stated, remembering the neighborhood positively brimming with members of various Jewish gangs.

"It ain't a suicide mission! You just gotta sit in the truck and keep watch while we get the stuff and get out. Piece of cake." Frank comforted him, but it didn't do much.

"Usually when people say that, it doesn't turn out to be very true." Lucas said this while looking down at the bar table, inspecting the few rings left in the finish from damp glasses.

"Luke, do you want a cut of the money or not?" Alec asked, sounding slightly amused by Lucas' fear.

"I do, I just don't want to get killed by Jewish gangsters before I get a chance to see Paris." The young man admitted jokingly. The mobsters laughed.

"Don't you worry about that." Alec smiled and stood from the bar, beckoning Frank to leave with him. "We'll see you tomorrow night." Lucas watched them go, all the while wondering how long it would take him to walk to his cab- which he guessed wasn't his anymore. He sighed and turned in his seat to the bar, looking over the various bottles.

"Miss. Addams?" Lucas' attention was drawn to the bartender, who was handing the bar telephone to an oddly beautiful young woman with extremely pale skin and short, black hair.

"Wednesday, please." She corrected the bartender before putting the phone to her ear. "Joel?" Lucas looked back at the bottles to not make his eavesdropping on, he assumed, the heiress of the hotel incredibly obvious.

"Yes, our date was tonight." She sighed and rubbed her hand on her forehead.

"Anything I can get you, sir?" The bartender asked Lucas, who jumped to attention.

"A, um, Pepsi?" He ordered the first thing that came to mind, and the bartender nodded and went to get it.

"Yeah. Yeah, I understand." The girl resignedly said into the phone when Lucas got back to her. "See you tomorrow. Goodbye." She sighed calmly before violently slamming the phone into the receiver, accidentally knocking it off the counter. "Sorry, Ollie." She apologized to the bartender.

"It's okay, Wednesday." Ollie set Lucas' bottle of soda in front of him before picking up the pieces of the phone off the floor. "Not like your dad can't buy a new one. What can I get you?"

"Martini. Dirty." She ordered as she rubbed her right temple.

"Can I see your ID, Miss. Addams?" Ollie asked. She looked up at him and smiled.

"You're kidding, right?" The bartender smiled back at her and began mixing her drink. "So, are you just going to be listening to me all night?" It took Lucas a moment to realize she was talking to him.

"Huh?" He played dumb.

"That's what I thought. Look, as interesting as those bottles of Jack Daniels probably are, I'm not stupid." Ollie had just set the martini down on the table for Wednesday when she picked it up and moved to the seat next to Lucas. "While I've never seen you before, those two scumbags you were just with kind of blew your cover." The girl explained, and Lucas anxiously took a drink of his soda.

"So, you know Alec and Frank?" He asked.

"You could say that." Wednesday took the toothpick out of her drink and slid the green olive off. "I've really only seen them threaten my father if he didn't agree to pay them." Lucas sucked in air through his teeth.

"I'm sorry." He apologized, and she sighed.

"No, I guess it's really not your fault. You're clearly a flunky, and a new one at that." Wednesday bit the toothpick.

"And what made you come to that conclusion?" Lucas asked with an eyebrow raised. Wednesday smiled and put the toothpick onto the bar counter.

"Well," She started, reveling at the chance to show off her deduction skills. "Like I said before, I've never seen you before, which I know isn't much, but it simply adds to the fact that you're wearing a clearance sale suit from one of your garden-variety department stores."

"Hey!" Lucas playfully objected, causing Wednesday to go on.

"And the fact that you clearly haven't been hardened by witnessing countless crimes." She concluded. He wasn't quite sure how she did it, but everything was spot-on.

"Well done." A stunned Lucas congratulated her and took a longer drink from his bottle.

"Thank you." The pair went a few seconds in silence before the girl spoke up. "I don't know your name." She pointed out.

"Lucas Beineke." Lucas introduced himself and awkwardly stuck his hand out for her to shake. She gripped it too tight.

"Not sure it's very nice to meet you, but I'm Wednesday Addams, and I've just been stood up for a date, so please forgive any momentary lapse in judgment." She downed the rest of her drink. "Ollie?" She called to the bartender for a refill.

"Forgive me, but what man in his right mind would stand you up?" Lucas practically blurted out. The faintest shade of pink crossed Wednesday's pale face before she feigned laughter.

"I guess I've never pegged my fiancé as very sane." She showed off her left hand, which sported a huge diamond ring.

"Wow." Lucas had to hide his disappointment. "Lucky guy."

"Eh, I think the chances of this being stolen property are quite good." She took a drink from her new martini.

"Double standards, Miss. Addams?" Lucas asked smugly. Wednesday rolled her eyes.

"Wednesday, and it's not the same." Lucas crossed his hands on the table.

"Oh, really?" He asked. "Please do enlighten me."

"He's just in a gang full of rebellious Jewish kids and will eventually grow out of it- unlike your kind that have been terrorizing the people of New York for over fifty years." Lucas sucked in his breath at the mention of Jewish gangs.

"Then do tell me; who fixed the 1919 World Series?" Lucas asked. "That was thirty-five years ago, right?" Lucas was so glad he'd studied up on Shoeless Joe Jackson, and thus the Black Sox Scandal.

"I see your point." Wednesday admitted. "I just have hope in his better judgement, and yours for that matter." Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Seriously, you seem like a pretty okay guy once you look past the people you choose to associate with." She reached into her handbag and put a dollar bill down on the counter. "Thanks, Ollie." She called to the bartender and stood from her place. "Maybe we'll see each other again sometime?" Wednesday asked Lucas.

"Yeah, probably." He smiled at her and she began to walk out of the bar.

"Stay out of trouble, Mr. German Mobster." She said over her shoulder, leaving Lucas bewildered, and somewhat in love.

* * *

**How long does it take for me to write this story? How long does it take to write a review? Do you see my point? Gooood.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Yes, this took forever and I apologize.**

* * *

April 30, 1954, 11 PM

"Okay, Kid. You wait right here for us and keep watch. Anyone heads for the shop, lightly tap the horn three times. Got it?" Alec was prepping Lucas outside of the gun shop in the Brooklyn neighborhood of Brownsville. The young man had no clue exactly where they'd gotten the truck he was currently driving, but he had a pretty good idea, and knew that the red stain on the door was not tomato.

"How long should it take you to get the stuff?" He asked, looking down the street at the endless rows of sleazy apartment buildings, undoubtedly filled with gang members galore.

"As long as it takes to get the shit and get out as quick as we can." Frank said, not caring that that answer gave Lucas no new information whatsoever. The older men climbed out of the truck, leaving their new accomplice to watch as they crouched and made their way around the back of the small, brick building.

Left with nothing but his own paranoia to keep him company, Lucas could only think of all the things that could go wrong with this job, ranging from getting his ass kicked by Jewish teenagers, to what happened to guys like him in prison. Remembering his rather small build compared to most convicts, he winced at the latter thought.

"Sh-boom, sh-boom..." He sang in a nervous whisper while his mahogany eyes darted around, searching for the danger that wasn't presently there. Getting a tight grip on the steering wheel with both hands helped steady their trembling, but Lucas could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he had no doubt that if he were to roll up the sleeves of his shirt, the hairs on his arms would be standing on-end.

Relief only came to his nerves when Alec and Frank reemerged from the back of the gun shop; large boxes in hand. Sighing, Lucas thanked the Lord above for letting his first job with the Mafia go without incident.

"Alright, we'd better scram." Said Alec as he got into the front of the truck after helping Frank load the guns.

"Like, right the hell now." Frank added from his place with the cargo.

"Are they coming?" Lucas asked frantically as he shifted the car out of park, and tore away from the curb.

"Easy!" Alec accosted him, pointing his thumb backwards, toward the sensitive cargo. "No, they ain't right now, but I'd prefer we didn't get blown to bits by the present we left in the store." He answered Lucas' question. The young man's brain didn't have much time to process this.

"What-" He began, not a second before a cloud of smoke and flames erupted in his rearview mirror. "-the FUCK?!" Though it'd not been what he'd originally intended to say, the new addition to the sentence fit all the same.

"The boss told the owner of the joint to give us a better deal on the guns." Alec said coolly. This, admittedly, was not a logical solution in Lucas' mind.

"SO YOU BLEW UP THE FUCKING STORE?!" The driver screamed.

"The boss wanted to send a message." Frank said calmly, sounding amused at his partner's attitude.

"Well," Lucas took a few deep breaths. "Was the owner at least insured?" He knew this was a stupid question before he asked, but he supposed it was his mother's philanthropic attitude coming through.

"Hopefully." Alec's mouth warped into a grin, which Lucas caught out of the corner of his eye.

"Stop caring so much, kid!" Frank gave his two cents.

"I'm trying." Lucas called back to him, resolving himself to start thinking less about the lives of others.

Within the next minute or two, the men passed the fire trucks heading to Brownsville, which elicited no further comment from the men, and Lucas found that to be a relief. The feeling only increased when Alec switched on the truck's radio to break the heavy silence, and the sweet sounds of the classic channel filled the cabin.

"I fuckin' love this song!" Frank exclaimed from the back, and Lucas couldn't help but chuckle as the mobster began to croon along with Bing Crosby, though he swore he could feel the eye roll from Alec.

It was a relief when the Caballero came into view. Stopping at the front doors, he waited for further instruction.

"We'll let Frank deal with the stuff; You and I are having a drink." Alec called to the younger man after hopping out of the truck. Lucas figured it best not to argue, despite desperately wanting nothing more than to go home, where his sister was probably fast asleep by now.

To his surprise, he and Alec came across a familiar woman in the lobby; her nose buried in a book that he couldn't catch the title of.

"Hey there, Wednesday." Alec greeted her with a flirting tip of his fedora. She didn't seem very allured.

"Ugh, one minute. That is all I ask for." Wednesday said to herself in annoyance as she dog-eared the page she was on and slammed the book shut. "What?" She asked.

"Nothin'. Just saying hello to the most beautiful girl in the joint." Alec, who Lucas figured was about 30, said coyly to the heiress. She made a show of gagging. "What? It was a compliment!" He defended, and Lucas chose his first opportunity to make eye contact with Wednesday to give her an apologetic look.

"From anyone but you, sure, that sentence would have been a compliment." She said defiantly to Alec, who laughed. Lucas could tell from Wednesday's face, which at this moment resembled a look his sister sometimes got, that she was about to go ballistic.

"Hey, Alec," He intervened before things could get ugly. "Why don't I meet you in the bar in a few minutes?" He offered, pointing in the bar's direction. "I gotta call someone." The older man sighed loudly.

"Yeah, alright." He turned to Wednesday one last time. "I'll talk to you later, Baby." He winked and turned to the bar.

"Dreading it already." She called back in the sweetest voice she could muster. Lucas took a few steps towards the lobby phone until he was sure Alec was gone, and then turned back around to Wednesday.

"I'm really sorry about that." He apologized for his coworker.

"Eh, it's not your fault that vulture thinks he can screw any girl he sets his eyes on." She set her book down on the table next to her lounge chair. "But I have to say, I didn't expect to see you again so soon."

"Well, this is the new hangout, isn't it?" Lucas asked.

"Unfortunately, yes. But I honestly didn't think you would last this long with them." Wednesday admitted.

"It's been a day..." Lucas pointed out.

"Yes, I know." The man felt as though he should feel offended. "Though I must admit, you look a bit shaken up." Lucas ran a hand through his hair.

"Is it that obvious?" He asked; Wednesday nodded. "Well, shit. I guess I'd better go smash up a barber shop to get the testosterone flowing!" He exclaimed jokingly, and Wednesday giggled for a millisecond before clapping a hand over her mouth. Lucas didn't exactly know the reason for the sudden rapid change in character; the joke hasn't been THAT funny. "So what are you reading?" He asked, indicating the book.

"Oh." Wednesday was taken off guard. "Um, it's a play. _Faust_?" She offered, used to people having a limited knowledge of such things.

"Goethe's?" Lucas asked instantly. Wednesday's eyes brightened.

"Yes, actually." Lucas dramatically put a hand over his heart in a swooning fashion.

"My favorite!" He got closer to her chair and crouched down next to it: "Where are you at in it?" Lucas asked.

"Faust just seduced Gretchen." Wednesday reached for the book and opened to the page she'd been on, showing it to Lucas, who only needed to read a few lines.

"Oh, yeah. It's just getting good." He commented.

"Indeed." Wednesday agreed, and he smiled wide at the prospect of discussing one of his favorite works. But unfortunately, this was cut short by a little boy in gray pajamas barreling through the lobby from the elevator.

"Surrender, or face the fury of my blade!" The boy cried to someone that wasn't there, raising a little, probably fake, sword above his head.

"Pubert, what are you doing out of bed?" Wednesday called to the boy, who turned around immediately. Getting a good look at him, Lucas could see that he was about five, and he and Wednesday shared the same black hair and pale complexion- though, Wednesday did not sport what appeared to be a novelty mustache.

"Hark! The tyrant Viscountess approaches!" The boy barked without skipping a beat. Lucas couldn't help but think it was incredibly adorable.

"The Viscountess expects the valiant Sir Pubert to do what she tells him, lest she inform the Count." Wednesday played along just once, and turned to Lucas. "I'm sorry; this is my kid brother." She explained in a whisper. The boy maintained his character.

"I was merely having a duel with Leopold." He defended himself.

"Yes, I know. But I've informed you, and Mr. Leopold that you may play together in the daytime, not the middle of the night." The child sighed.

"Why do you have authority over me, anyway?" He asked in all seriousness. His sister rolled her eyes, so he changed the subject. "And who might this peasant be?" He asked, sword raised. While kneeling, Lucas was slightly more at his level, but the grown man couldn't help but smile at the rather adorable kid.

"Lucas, of the house of Beineke, Sir!" He played along, and heard Wednesday laugh. Pubert lowered his weapon.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He remained in character. "Perhaps you would like to join my rebellion?" Pubert made a pointed glance at Wednesday.

"Okay, Sir Pubert. It's time for you to go back to bed." She announced; her brother was not fazed. "Unless you would like a go on the rack when we get home?" Lucas assumed this was still a part of the game, but the younger sibling's facial expression changed instantly.

"Well, I best be off to my chambers." He announced instantly, and turned on one foot to the direction of the elevator.

"The sooner my parents get back from their honeymoon, the better." Wednesday sighed. Lucas raised an eyebrow questioningly. "My mother was going through a bit of a crisis after this." She held up her left hand to show off the ring again.

"Ah." Lucas nodded. "My mother went through something similar a few years ago, but my father would hardly take her on a second honeymoon."

"Tragic." Wednesday shook her head disapprovingly.

"Yeah, it is." Lucas agreed. "She would leave the old bastard if she had anything to fall back on." Wednesday sighed.

"It sure is a fine time we're living in." She commented sarcastically.

If either had anything further to say to each other, the opportunity was never given, as Wednesday's attention immediately shifted to a person that had just entered the hotel.

"Hello, Joel." She greeted him, and Lucas stood up straight, smiling at the stocky, curly-haired man that stood before him.

"Who's this asshole?" Joel asked Wednesday, eyeing Lucas suspiciously.

"This is Lucas- he's an old family friend." She lied, and Lucas nodded along after putting two and two together to figure this guy was her fiancé.

"Pleased to meet you." He stuck out his hand for the shorter man to shake. Joel eyed it for a moment before grudgingly doing the polite thing and obliging.

"What're you doin' talking to my girl at this time a night?" He asked, not at all trying to mask what he suspected.

"I'm staying here. I have trouble sleeping at night, and happened to meet up with Wednesday. She does nothing but talk about you." Lucas lied seamlessly, to Wednesday's gratitude. The last part brought a look of smug satisfaction to Joel's face.

"Good to know." He waved his hand in a shooing motion. "Now scram."

Not having to be told twice, Lucas turned toward the hotel bar.

"Wait," Wednesday called to him, standing from her chair and grasping Lucas' right hand in hers when he turned to face her. "It was good seeing you again." She let go, stealthily leaving a piece of paper in the new criminal's hand.

"Baby, you would not believe the shit that went down tonight." Lucas heard Joel say to Wednesday as he slowly made his way to meet back up with Alec. Simultaneously, he unfolded the paper, finding that it contained what had to be Wednesday's telephone number.

Pocketing it, he couldn't help but silently laugh at Joel describing his uncle's shop getting blown up.

* * *

**Did you guys see what I did there? I referenced a fanfic within a fanfic. This fanfiception has been brought to you by Child of a Broken Dawn's latest story, Any Moment. Go read that.**

**And please review. It's hardly difficult.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Oh look, a long chapter to make up for the wait!**

* * *

May 3, 1954, 7:30 AM

"So, who do you have to call?" Lauren asked Lucas as he sleepily stepped into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.

"Huh?" He yawned, opening the cupboard for a coffee cup.

"Today's Wednesday." His sister stated.

"Yes, and?" Lucas asked, confused.

"You're supposed to call that number by the phone." She pointed to the end table that housed their telephone. Lucas spared it a glance before pouring himself a cup of coffee. He still had no idea why he'd woken up so early after another late night of 'work'. He never knew he would grow up to be an accessory to numerous crimes, but it seemed to pay well enough.

"Oh, no, the person's _name_ is Wednesday." He corrected his sister.

"Strange name." Lauren put on her glasses and began to scan the newspaper.

"Remember that family that moved to Willard from Utah?" Lucas reminded her. Lauren's memory darted to the various unusual names of their old neighbors.

"Excellent point." She agreed. "So, is this Wednesday a girl?" Her brother wished he had been blessed with the ability to blatantly lie to his loved ones, but unfortunately it couldn't be granted.

"Yes." Though he'd turned his attention to his cup, Lucas could feel Lauren's smirk.

"Would Mom approve?" She asked.

"My intentions are pure; she's engaged." Lucas defended.

"Then that would be a no." Lauren gently set down her paper and smiled at her brother, seeing an opportunity. "Any chance she can get away from her fiancé on Friday?"

"Why?" Lucas asked, eyebrow raised.

"Hank's staying in the city for the weekend, and I'd like at least a few hours of privacy." Lauren's little brother giggled. "Please be an adult for once." She begged of him.

"Fine, fine." Lucas held up his free hand in surrender. "I might even be working that night, anyway."

"Which reminds me," Lauren began. "Fred Mott told me that you quit your job. Care to elaborate?"

"Shit." Lucas muttered to himself, setting down his coffee. "I, uh, got a better one." Whether or not his statement was the truth can be open to interpretation.

"Doing what?" Lauren interrogated. Lucas bought himself time by sipping his coffee.

"I work at the Hotel Cabellero." Again, left open to interpretation.

"Is that in Manhattan?" Lauren asked, not recalling if she'd ever seen such a place.

"Yes; It's near Central Park. A bit old, but it has character." Her brother described.

"And what is it that you do there? I can hardly imagine you as a bellhop." Lucas could no longer tell if this conversation had turned into an interrogation, or if his sister was simply asking honest questions. He recalled the terminology Frank and Alec had used.

"Security." This caused his sister to chuckle.

"Who in their right mind would hire you for that?" Lucas sighed at his sister's lack of confidence in him.

"I happen to be stronger than I look." Lauren rolled her eyes.

"Whatever you say, so long as you can convince Dad that you're making something of yourself."

"Oh, I am. More so than when I was driving people around for tips, for sure." Lucas felt the need to disregard that in some ways, he was still doing just that.

"And I expect you to continue paying half the rent." Lauren concluded.

"Not a problem."

* * *

Lucas waited at the bar in the Hotel Cabellero, hoping Frank or Alec showed up at some point with a possible job opportunity. Though he'd already accumulated a sizable stash of money that could very easily pay his rent for the next few months, among other things, he wanted more. Perhaps it was due to the idea of a glamorous lifestyle, perhaps it was just to break free of his father's control forever. Either way, it seemed that the mob was currently the only visible way of achieving his goals.

"You didn't call." The all too familiar voice of Wednesday Addams greeted him as he sipped another soda. He turned to his right, facing her with a look of guilt.

"I know, and I have a million excuses that can all be explained by me being overly cautious." Lucas bashfully defended himself. Wednesday sighed.

"It's a telephone call, Lucas, it's not a life-changing decision."

"It is if your fiancé happened to pick up the phone." He argued. Wednesday laughed at this.

"Joel? Oh, you really don't have to worry about him. As much as he may think he owns me, he has absolutely no say in who I choose to associate with." She stole a sip of Lucas' soda.

"Until he knocks my teeth in." The young man took back his drink when Wednesday handed it to him.

"He can try." She dismissed his fears. Remembering the angry, stocky man he'd met before, Lucas highly doubted this, but he already knew better than to argue with Miss. Addams.

"So, what are you doing on this fine day?" He asked, noting the sunny sky he'd seen upon entering the hotel.

"Well, I was actually going to go for a walk. Care to join me?" Wednesday invited him, nodding towards the lobby.

"Sure." Lucas agreed, finishing his soda and laying down the correct amount of change for the bartender. "Are we walking anyplace in particular?" He asked with amusement as Wednesday retrieved a parasol from the man at the front desk.

"Probably the park." She led the way out of the hotel, opening the parasol as soon as they were out in the sun. Lucas couldn't help but think of the beautiful vampires from his books, like Lucy Westenra or Carmilla. "So, tell me, what is your story, Mr. Beineke?" Wednesday asked him.

"It's not very long, nor is it interesting." Lucas dismissed himself.

"Try me." Wednesday urged.

"Well, I come from a small town in Ohio named Willard-" He began.

"Ouch." Wednesday interrupted. "Sorry, go on."

"My father owns a pretty large real estate company, and my mother doesn't work. I have one older sister, Lauren, who works here as a lawyer- well, until she gets married this summer." Lucas recited the common story of his well-off family, but it didn't seem to peak Wednesday's interest.

"And what about you? What are your achievements, your dreams?" She probed.

"As far as achievements go, I don't have many. I was pretty god-awful at sports, and I write in my spare time. I came to the city for college, but I've decided to take this year off."

"And somewhere in the last part is where you met up with the Mob." Wednesday assumed.

"Basically. I was driving a cab for a little while, but organized crime pays better." Lucas stated.

"Oh, no doubt. I just can't imagine you hurting anyone." She said.

"And you, Wednesday? You have to do other things besides read old plays." Lucas assumed.

"I'm a bit of a historical weapons enthusiast, actually." Wednesday admitted to him.

"Neat! Like muskets and bayonets?" He inquired, his interest peaked at her unusual hobby.

"A few, but I'm really more of a crossbow and dagger kind of girl." Wednesday disclosed.

"From any particular era?"

"Well, I'm partial to the Spanish Inquisition, but I have them from whenever." Lucas nodded, and noted that they'd reached the edge of Central Park.

"You never really get sick of it, do you?" He asked rhetorically.

"You'd be surprised. But I guess it's aesthetically pleasing sometimes." She semi-agreed.

"Does the fiancé know about your collection?" Lucas asked, going back to their original discussion.

"Of course. I was half expecting him to run away when I showed it to him for the first time. Instead he called me his Dark Princess." Lucas laughed, thinking she was joking. "I wish I were kidding." Wednesday deadpanned.

"Ouch." Lucas sympathized, despite still finding it a tad funny.

"You're telling me."

"When exactly did you guys meet?" He asked, now confused about the pairing of the individuals.

"About six years ago. We were kids and it's kind of a long story." Feeling as though she probably wouldn't elaborate at this time, Lucas moved on to a question he was dying to ask.

"Was he always Mr. Tough Guy?"

"Oh, definitely not. Back then, Joel would wait on me hand and foot if I told him to." Lucas raised an eyebrow.

"That doesn't exactly sound like a lasting relationship." Wednesday shook her head.

"No, it really doesn't, does it? I guess I just stayed with him because I figured that nothing better would come along." Lucas cocked his head, not believing what he was hearing.

"Are you kidding me right now? A babe like you has trouble getting a date?" He asked in disbelief. Wednesday smiled and pushed her hair behind her ear.

"You don't know my family." She stated.

"Your family doesn't change the fact that you're a fox- with brains to boot." Lucas couldn't believe he was still saying this stuff.

"You're sweet. But believe me, it does weed out the unfit." The young man could have sworn he saw the faintest blush in her cheeks.

"Your little brother didn't seem so bad." He pointed out.

"That's because he's the best behaved of the bunch; our other brother ate a live duck once on a dare." Lucas' eyes widened considerably. "You're telling me. I didn't think he'd actually do it." Wednesday again showed no signs of kidding.

"I must admit that my family is not nearly as bad." He said.

"So they've never scared anyone off?" She asked.

"No, but they've never really been given the chance. I'm not very lucky with love." Lucas bit his bottom lip.

"Let me guess; string of flings, probably all beautiful, dumb as a bucket of rocks, and probably left you for more exciting men." Wednesday suggested, and realized her mistake. "I'm sorry; that was crass."

"Thanks for the uppercut to how I feel about myself, but no, that was right on the money." Lucas took off his suit jacket and draped it over one shoulder.

"How tragic." Wednesday sympathized.

"Eh, the good part of that is that they never stay. I don't have to worry about the possibility of spending my life in the same state of depression and desperation as I am when I'm in a relationship with someone who could never love me like I loved them." Lucas mused, and Wednesday smiled.

"That's pretty deep, Beineke. You should write a poem about that."

"Maybe I will one of these days." Lucas ran a hand through his hair.

"Promise to read it to me?" Wednesday asked, stepping closer.

"Of course." Lucas agreed, just before the moment was interrupted.

"Hey, Luke! Small World." Frank called from a hot dog stand a few feet away. Embarrassed, Lucas looked down.

"Nice to see you, Frank." The young man greeted his accomplice, while his walking companion groaned, expressing her annoyance. Ignoring her, the elder mobster was still cheery as ever.

"Yeah, likewise. And look, you got the Manhattan Princess with you! How ya doin', kid?" He asked Wednesday.

"Oddly enough, slightly worse than I was ten minutes ago. No idea why." She replied sarcastically.

"Look, you know your Pop doesn't have a problem with me." Frank said.

"But I do." Wednesday replied defiantly.

"And that's just too bad. Maybe when he keels over, you'll call the shots for a while, but till then, your opinion don't mean shit." Frank smiled tauntingly. "But it seems you hit it off with one of our boys." He commented, causing Wednesday to glare.

"Go fuck yourself, Frank." She insulted and turned from them, quickly striding into the park.

"Wednesday, wait-" Lucas called after her in vain, knowing that she wouldn't turn around so long as Frank was there.

"Eh, don't worry about it, kid. Little bitch ain't likely to give it up to you, anyway." Frank commented, and Lucas balled his hands into fists.

"Thanks, Frank." He said through his teeth.

"No problem. But hey, I'm glad I caught you. Boss has another job for us comin' up. It's gonna have a pretty big payout." As much as Lucas wanted to get away from the man, the prospect of a job kept him where he was.

"Sounds good. Need me to drive, like always?" He asked.

"Actually, no. We're takin' out a hit, and we need one young guy to get in there that'll blend in." Frank explained

"In where?" Lucas asked.

"I dunno. Some hangout full of greaseball delinquents." Frank loosened his tie casually.

"Are you saying that you want _me_ to kill a greaser?" Lucas confirmed, a little louder than necessary.

"Hey, keep your fuckin' voice down." Frank's eyes darted around to make sure nobody was staring. "But basically, yeah. It's the kid of a politician who plans on cracking down on organized crime. Pot seems to enjoy callin' the kettle black, if you know what I mean."

"I get it, but why me? I honestly don't think I'm capable of killing anyone." Lucas now agreed with Wednesday's earlier observation.

"Trust me, Luke. Everyone is capable of killing someone. You're young and could blend in well-enough to get in there and take the kid out quietly." Lucas rubbed his temples, still not sure.

"And if something goes wrong?" He asked, knowing the answer wouldn't be good.

"You get shot, you get stabbed, you might die. Who knows." Frank clapped his hand on his protégé's shoulder.

"Wonderful." Lucas said sarcastically with a smile.

"Look, I'll get you what you need, and guide you through the whole process." The older mobster said gently, knowing he couldn't find another option on such short notice.

"How much are we talking, here?" Lucas inquired, knowing he'd at least get a big payoff from this. "On the guy's head?" He added.

"Five grand, and you get sixty percent." Frank reverted himself to the business man most of society thought him to be.

"Seems kinda cheap, considering that I'll be doing the dirty work." Lucas made a lame attempt at negotiating.

"Kid, you ain't even an official member of the family. You're lucky the boss is offering you that much." Frank reached into his coat pocket for his cigarettes and lighter.

"Yeah, I know." Lucas gave up. "But there's gotta be another reason why the boss wants this guy dead so bad." He declined Frank's offer of a smoke.

"The little bastard raped our consigliere's daughter. Is that enough for you, 'cause it sure as hell is for the don." Lucas suddenly lost all of his sympathy for the unfortunate greaser.

"Yes, I understand." Frank lit his cigarette. "Just seems like he'd be worth more." He added with a disappointed mutter that Frank seemed to have not heard.

"Good. We'll work out the details with Alec sometime this week, and you'll be all set in no time." The older man stuck out his hand.

"Alright." Lucas shook it, agreeing to the terms.

"And hey, sorry for making the girl flip her lid." Frank said with a vast amount of imitated sympathy.

"I'm sure it wasn't your intention." Lucas replied half-heartedly, looking in the direction Wednesday had gone.

"Her house is that way in the park if you wanna go after her." Frank tipped Lucas off, and left the boy more confused than before. "I'll be in touch."

* * *

Regretting not staying at home that night, Wednesday scoured the floor of Joel's bedroom to find her various articles of clothing after yet another unsatisfying experience. Hoping that her fiance would simply fall asleep immediately like he sometimes did, she had a hell of a time finding her boots that she'd hastily kicked off at some point.

"What's the matter with you lately?" Joel asked after she got dressed faster than usual, claiming she had to be back home before seven.

"I don't know what you mean." She played dumb, not really in the mood for an argument at the moment, but knew it was coming anyway.

"Really? 'Cause you seem to be canceling our dates left and right." Joel sat up in bed, crossing his hands.

"To be quite honest, I didn't think you'd notice." Wednesday admitted, and her fiancé frowned.

"The fuck's that supposed to mean?" He asked, raising his voice.

"It means that you don't exactly have the greatest track record when it comes to taking me out when you promised." She found her boots and put them on.

"Is this about me not taking you to that stupid movie?" Joel guessed, now annoyed. Never one to be comfortable walking around naked, he held his hand out for Wednesday to hand him his clothes.

"That was one of the many times, yes." Wednesday tossed Joel his boxer shorts.

"I was working!" He exclaimed, nearly faceplanting from putting his underwear on while standing. "You don't have the right to punish me for something I have no control over."

"I'm fairly certain you have control over going to cathouses with those lowlifes." His fiancée snapped, now fixing her hair in a mirror.

"It was for business!" Joel shouted, following Wednesday to the front door.

"Oh, really?" Wednesday inquired.

"Yes, really. And you hardly are in a place to question what or who I do when I just recently got to watch you eye-fuck a pol-" Joel began to rant.

"I did not eye-fuck anyone!" Wednesday interrupted before he could finish his slur. "He's an old family friend and nothing more." She insisted.

"For some reason, I'm having trouble believing it." Joel sneered.

"Fine. Then you can think what you will about my activities, and I won't leave you for screwing cheap whores. Agreed?" On that note, she flung open the door, waiting for Joel to try to get the last word in.

"Where are you going?" He called.

"Home." She stated.

"I ain't finished talking to you!" Joel barked.

"That's too bad." Wednesday ended her sentence with a defiant slam of the door, leaving her fiancé fuming.

* * *

**I finished this blasted chapter! Hahahahaha! I believe this deserves a lovely review, don't you think?**


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